Some late time
The Empty Bed
There’s the immediate moment after the line between light and shadow has been exhaled and the thousand brilliant things you might have spoken or thought have already been said by those with more eloquence and measure.
The empty bed holds the late sun and the trees sing you outside to pass beneath the dappling to breathe a twilight that will live but once in your sighs. She was like this. And it will be she who will know your last leaving.
In the silence that follows, only the dry leaf of life forgetting to stop for any longer than it needs to give reason to the wind, response to that which must always remain invisible and unutterable.
Some late time, I will give over my eyes to the gazing of it, look beyond the empty walls into the center of what was a star to find you there, worlds away with another who can company that world for you and I will be thrown back into the void from whence we came just to lose one another all over again.
Joseph Gallo
August 9, 2007
There’s the immediate moment after the line between light and shadow has been exhaled and the thousand brilliant things you might have spoken or thought have already been said by those with more eloquence and measure.
The empty bed holds the late sun and the trees sing you outside to pass beneath the dappling to breathe a twilight that will live but once in your sighs. She was like this. And it will be she who will know your last leaving.
In the silence that follows, only the dry leaf of life forgetting to stop for any longer than it needs to give reason to the wind, response to that which must always remain invisible and unutterable.
Some late time, I will give over my eyes to the gazing of it, look beyond the empty walls into the center of what was a star to find you there, worlds away with another who can company that world for you and I will be thrown back into the void from whence we came just to lose one another all over again.
Joseph Gallo
August 9, 2007
post-time 1:14 AM
7 Comments:
I have to quote Carl Sandburg after reading this.
"Tell me if the lovers are losers... tell me if any get more than the lovers."
Nice Sunday to you, Joseph.
Yes, Jonice, I get this. The losing is the aftergrace of getting. Thanks for this.
How very lovely to read your words as the sun rises over these dry desert hills, and I know your essence has moved to cooler, blue horizons.
*sigh*
Nadene
Nadene! E-mail me please. You keep getting bounced back. Sorry I missed you in all that time I spent down in Hadesville. LOL
How empty can a bed be as you lay and think or dream or sleep?
It's wonderful to share, but my bed is attached to me and loss is a wonderful taste of the living.
I look forward to my next taste!
seeker
Lovely, Joseph.
You've been quiet for a long time, haven't you?
How are things going in your new place?
:)
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